


Binge Drinking

by therealfroggy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't drink, and he doesn't have sex. Does he even know why he doesn't?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Binge Drinking

Mycroft liked to gently mock his younger brother whenever he had the chance. It was his only retaliation for the boy being such an arrogant and ungrateful prat; the elder Holmes brother could have had Sherlock locked up years ago in a place where no one would ever find him. At least until Sherlock, being Sherlock, would wiggle out of the straight-jacket and break out. Nevertheless, Mycroft could have had him locked up, in a padded room, just for being a nuisance. He refrained from doing so. And just for that, he felt he could allow himself a few jokes at Sherlock's expense.

And his favourite subject was Sherlock's virginity, sobriety and general lack of experience in life. Some things which others took for granted, Sherlock had never been anywhere near experiencing for himself. True, the consulting detective had beaten up corpses, gotten high on cocaine and talked to some of the most illustrious people in the country. But he had never even been drunk with alcohol. And Mycroft liked to bring this up whenever he could. Especially in front of other people.

During that annoying Irene Adler affair, for example, Sherlock had stated that sex didn't scare him. Mycroft had wittily replied, “How would you know?”

And when Mycroft did this, people stared. They usually stared at Sherlock, either expecting him to laugh and confirm that his brother was only joking or staring at him in surprise and condescension. Really? A man in his early thirties, reasonably attractive and now famous, and he couldn't even get a leg over?

John didn't stare. He usually became rather quiet and avoided Sherlock's eyes. And while Sherlock was grateful that John didn't often start with the “What, never?” or “So you'll do drugs but you won't drink?” lines, he could read the questions in his flatmate's eyes.

The thing was, Sherlock didn't really have an answer to those questions. Until recently he'd never much cared, either, but there was something about the honest shock in John's eyes when he learned that Sherlock didn't... indulge. As if a person not having sex was more than John could manage to wrap his little mind around. As if Sherlock was missing out.

Well, Sherlock had come to the conclusion that he might just try some of those things. The things that people seemed to rate so highly. After all, it was Mycroft who – once upon a time, when Sherlock was in his early twenties – had confessed that the cocaine brought such an exceptional clarity to his own mind. Sherlock had, for the first time in his life, heeded his brother's advice and taken his first dose of that wonderful substance. And Mycroft had been right then. So why should he not also be right about the sex and the alcohol?

Those were, at any rate, the first two things Sherlock was going to test. He might find that they were as conducive to his work as the patches were, or as good for his boredom as the cocaine, although he strongly doubted it. But he would not have thought himself a scientist if he hadn't been willing to experiment at length to determine even the smallest variable. It must be done. He was probably overdue as it was.

So he prepared a lab book, ensured controlled settings and settled on a lab assistant (that unpleasant task fell to John, being the only person Sherlock could really trust). John didn't know about his imminent début as a social sciences lab assistant until Sherlock told him on the night of the experiment.

“John,” Sherlock said, looking at the wall from over his steepled fingers. “I require your assistance. Hand me that bottle, would you?”

John got up from the couch on auto-pilot and was half-way over to the dresser before he remembered that he wasn't Sherlock's housemaid (his own words). He grabbed the bottle of tequila and turned to Sherlock, that worried little pinch between his eyebrows growing more pronounced by the second.

“I wondered what this was doing here.”

“Find yourself a comfortable seat, John. Then start taking notes. I expect I'll be starting soon.”

“Starting what?”

“I'm not quite sure yet,” Sherlock admitted uneasily. “Blabbering, perhaps. Snoring. Dancing is, I understand, also a potential course of action. I doubt that I shall start weeping on your shoulder, though it has been known to happen to the subjects of the test runs.”

“Why would you be weeping into my shoulder?” John demanded. “Sherlock, what are you going to do to yourself?”

Sherlock noted that John seemed genuinely worried. He would have to remember that; John worried for Sherlock's mental well-being as well as his physical such. That was sure to prove useful at some point.

“Don't fuss, John, I'm only going to drink,” Sherlock reassured him. See, he could be sensitive. If he wanted to be.

“What, the entire bottle?” John asked, sounding dubious.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Of course not, you idiot. I won't need nearly that much data. Just sit down and start taking notes. The initial calculations are all in the lab book.”

John opened the lab book and began leafing through it. “Who are these test subjects, then? Where did you find anyone willing to let you experiment on them?”

“I went to a pub,” Sherlock replied. “And watched people.”

“Why didn't you drink there?” John demanded. “If you wanted to get sloshed, you might as well have done it in a pub.”

“I do not necessarily want to become strongly inebriated,” Sherlock explained with forced patience. He needed John to make accurate notes. “I wish to determine the number of alcohol units I can imbibe before losing control. Also, I have never drunk significant amounts of alcohol before. I wish to do so in controlled settings, so as not to taint the results.”

“And for this you need tequila?” John asked sceptically.

“It was on offer in Sainsbury's,” Sherlock offered.

John shook his head dubiously, but settled himself in the armchair. “Alright, then. I just fill these out?”

***

The next morning, the lab book read as follows, in John's doctorly handwriting:

_1 unit. No change in vital statistics. No visible physical effects. Subject calm and rational. Amended: subject insists he is always rational._

_2 units. No change in vital statistics. Subject shows distaste at flavour of alcoholic substance. No further change._

_3 units. No change in vital statistics. Subject still calm and rational, yet declines offer of lime and salt. Subject seemingly fascinated by explanation of offer of lime and salt._

_4 units. Slightly elevated heart rate, not significantly so. Subject's posture less rigid. Subject no longer interested in maintaining conversation. Subject suggests lab assistant shut up._

_5 units. Still slightly elevated heart rate, body temperature elevated 0.8 degrees. Subject complains of warmth and removes jumper. Slight carelessness in movement of hands when measuring next unit, some spillage._

_6 units. Subject refuses to wait for the 15 minute time period to lapse before drinking this unit. Subject insists lab assistant is a bore and should have some tequila. Lab assistant declines offer. Subject sulks. Subject insists he does not sulk._

_7 units. Subject in high spirits. Heart rate elevated, body temperature raised 1.0 degrees. Subject still refuses to adhere to experiment perimeters, consumes units much faster than at 15 minute intervals. Subject's posture slumped._

_8 units. Subject has lost all rationality. Subject suggests lab assistant remove his shirt in order to allow subject to experience body shots. Lab assistant refuses. Subject removes own shirt. Lab assistant refuses to do body shots off subject's abdomen. Amended: subject points out he has exceptionally fine abdomen._

_9 units. Impossible to monitor vital statistics, as subject is trying to crawl on top of lab assistant. Lab assistant's chin bruised in ensuing scuffle. Subject complains of loneliness. Lab assistant hides tequila bottle while subject is conversing on the art of deduction. Lab assistant offers making food. Subject agrees loudly._

_Subject calms down significantly after eggs and bacon are presented. Subject finishes meal. Subject yawns. Lab assistant assists subject into bedroom. Subject falls asleep in forty-seven seconds. Lab assistant removes subject's shoes._

_Experiment concluded._


End file.
